


Isolated

by Scorpiongrass (DinoKitty)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Chromesthesia, Gen, Human Names, More tags to be added, OCC - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Symbolism, Synesthesia, mentioned Tony - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinoKitty/pseuds/Scorpiongrass
Summary: “Now could be the time for a cold drink and a dark speech. One about politics and duty, power and obligations. But you shall be leaving Alfred and I am left with only the need to take action.”For every good leader a nation has, they also have a bad one. America has been spared the sordid details but even he knows that his time is coming. This latest president was more than unexpected, she was unwanted by Alfred but there was little say he had and now he's saddled with a leader willing to do anything to get what she believes is right.





	Isolated

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Hetalia or any affiliated characters.  
> In addition I have no beta and therefore any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own.

Crystalline eyes stared across the room dully. “You want me to do what exactly?” He asked this for clarification, not because he was confused but rather because he was disbelieving. “Ma’am, you want me to abandon everything, my life, my family, my country and isolate myself? What possible purpose could this serve? Cutting ties could ruin our entire economy, could destroy any chance for peaceful relations with other countries and we would be abandoning multiple nations to the surrounding countries.” Canary specks flickered in and out of his vision in time with the ticking of the clock patterned like the dots in a comic book pattern. Lavender haze permeated his peripheral vision in a swirling pattern. Neither were an uncommon occurrence nor were they particularly bothersome but the constant reminder movement was a bit distracting.  
“Your point, Mr. Jones?”  
The woman sitting behind the large mahogany desk appeared calm, face blank and neutral. Strong hands were poised in an arch in front of her mouth while frosted eyes standing in contrast to her dark skin. President Diana Wilson had been in office no longer than a month when she was first introduced to Alfred F. Jones and not a week later before she called the current meeting. Wilson had only turned old enough to run for office the year before and proved herself more than capable when she won with a considerable lead. Every action she made was controlled and every word she spoke as measured and composed. Her voice was bloody red sparks.  
The colors Alfred saw, the ones connected to sounds around him, always showed him where safely lay. In the beginning the noises from forests of his land were a soothing sage filling his vision sporadically during his adventures as a child. A tranquil teal filled his appeared as he explored his land coast to coast. He always found safety in the colors only he could see but there was also danger that came with other colors. His native people’s voices shone silver while the foreigners began garnet before fading into blush. Orchid came with the sounds of the night and honey with the racket brought by sunrise. The cry of New York City cruisers was a stark ruby. Alarms were scarlet, gunshots stood crimson and the scream of grenades turned everything merlot.  
“Mr. Jones.” Striking blood startled Alfred from his nostalgia. “Mr. Jones are you listening to me?’ Pale eyes narrowed at the nation and he cowed under the intense gaze. “You consent is not required for this operation to go through but I would prefer to have you on board. This entire situation would be easier dealt with if you allied with us it will be easier to deal with the masses.”  
Alfred raised an eyebrow at her. Wilson had only just been introduced to him, she barely knew him. “How can you say that? The masses don’t know about me, they don’t know about any of the personifications. Nothing good can come from revealing us. In fact I’m sure you’ll have to deal with outrage and hysteria.”  
Wilson narrowed her eyes before muttering viciously under her breath walking briskly to the cupboard behind her desk. Taking a moment to rummage through everything before pulling out a thick musty tomb. “My predecessors have been kind enough to have left behind a rather extensive list of knowledge about you personifications.” Wilson began delicately circles of blood surrounding her. “There is little about you individually however I have discovered that your experiences reflect the nations as a whole and vice versa. If I am to return to the nation’s original plan of neutrality we need to be isolated and having you physically isolated will assist in this.”  
“You can’t do this to me.” Alfred growled his own sky blue vapor rising. “I cannot let you compromise ever nation for your own gain. You aren’t the first to attempt it and you sure as hell won’t be the first. If you’d bothered to read that entire book you’d know how the others ended.” Alfred was not proud of his past involving leaders such as there. It was tantamount to treason when a President attempted to reveal personification and there were repercussions no one liked. Other countries had been required to do unseemly things, undignified things, immoral things that he would prefer not to do. “Let me leave and I won’t have to do something I’ll regret.”  
Wilson raised an eyebrow at him. “I am your president and I did read the rest of that book. I’ve taken precautions to deal with you.” She turned her back to him facing the wide window showing the out-stretching gardens. It was all rather dramatic. “I’m sorry to say but research has been conducted for years on how to control and utilize you. I cannot harness your power currently and now you’re unwilling to obey me. I’m going to be forced to do something drastic. Thankfully isolating a single man is not a hard task, no matter your extenuating abilities.” Walking to a liquor cabinet and began pouring herself a finger of scotch. “Anderson I would appreciate it if you could detain this man. Methods can be whatever you find most effective.”  
“Yes ma’am.” Streaks of tangerine appeared as a man stepped out from the corner. A mass of hulking shoulders and bulging muscles. Paired with narrow eyes and a scowl much like bulldog and Alfred was feeling suitably daunted.  
“Now could be the time for a cold drink and a dark speech. One about politics and duty, power and obligations. But you shall be leaving Alfred and I am left with only the need to take action.” She took her leave, exiting quietly further into her office.  
The monster of a man, Anderson, stepped further into the room his bulk taking up the doorway out. From the office door a man stepped out a bleached lab coat hanging off his lanky form, dark eyes calculating while his mouth was curved into a shark-like smile. “Anderson if you don’t mind restraining Mr. Jones. I would like to use injection 436, it should sedate him long enough for you to move him.”  
Ignoring the burgundy flashes Alfred let out a growl as Anderson grabbed his arm. He attempted to tear his arm away, the strength afforded to him as a personification did nothing against the man holding him. A moment later and both arms were held uncomfortably behind his back before zip-ties dug into the flesh of his wrists securing him if only for a moment. With his arms out of commission there was little he could do to resist as the smaller man pulled out a syringe. Feeling the violent pinch in his neck Alfred twisted viciously trying to escape the feeling of somnolence pulling him over.  
Hefted into Anderson’s arms in a fireman’s carry Alfred remained conscious, though lethargic, as he was carried through the corridors to a narrow side room. The Small Man followed casually beside them. “Alfred, may I call you Alfred?” He paused for a moment before chuckling at his own joke and the paralyzed nation felt the strong desire to stab him the side. “Alfred, I’m Dr. Harte. I’ve been studying you personifications for quite a while now and I’ve realized a few things. Your apparent immortality and exceptional strength and resistance as well as enhanced accuracy, speed, and sensitivity. About you personally I’ve discovered even more, of course this is due to the fact that I haven’t had a chance to access the others yet. But rest assured my research is accurate. If my sedative and suppressant has done its job correctly you should find yourself unable to move a quite a bit, a few hours at least.” He paused from his gloating and Alfred was given a reprieve from the grating spikes stopping his ability to track where they were going. “Now President Wilson has been more than happy to fund my research as well as provide a test subject. Unfortunately Wilson’s desire for your isolation outweighs the benefits could bring so I believe this will be the last time you see me for quite a while.”  
“Anderson place Alfred on the ground for a moment, we will be going down in a moment and I’d like to do a few things before this lovely specimen is beyond my reach,” reaching into his pocket Harte pulled out another syringe. “This is stimulant. Specified for your condition when I give this to you I believe you’ll find yourself with a high sensitivity to lights and sounds. This will last a full twenty four hours, at least for you. For a normal subject this injection, injection 254, can last up to a week. With your advanced metabolism a day should be around the amount of time it lasts. But I’m sure you’ll be kind enough to inform me when I get the next chance to see you how long this lasts.”  
Alfred let out a weak growl before a syringe was stabbed into this neck once more and he felt pounding in his head. The first moment was fine before the bright light filtering in through the windows seemed to blind him. Squeezing his eyes shut he let out a loud whine only to find loud stone blue streaks stabbing his head. Curling into himself as much as he physically could the pained nation could only whimper, not wanting to make his apparent migraine even worse.  
“Brilliant. It’s working successfully. Anderson please take him to the holding cell.”  
With the searing pain in his head and his ears burning from the smallest noise Alfred lost all sense of direction. Being carried again every jostling of the arms holding him sent a shock pain through his head. Even the dim light coming through his eyelids gave of a waves of agony. “I never intended for this to go as far as it had.” The tangerine filling his head was as painful as any other noise but the words gave Alfred a small bit of comfort. The sound of a lift opening told him they head somewhere and it was not somewhere he wanted to go.  
Large hands dropped him and the nation let out another pained groan rolling onto his stomach to avoid the stimuli. The lights turned off giving Alfred a welcome reprieve and he rolled on to his stomach pointedly making as little noise as possible. Clutching him stomach the young man rolled to his side before vomiting violently, the seaweed blocks filling his view did nothing to dispel his nausea, into what he hoped was a corner before turning over again. Pain seeming to be the only thing willing to accompany him until he finally blacked out from the agony.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is a rewrite from something I just remembered to post yesterday. It was originally written close to a year ago for nanowrimo and it's been up on fanfiction.net for a while. Read it the old one. Any reviews or criticism is appreciated.


End file.
